


Painted Gold

by DoctorSockling



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Initiations, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex as team bonding traditions, Sid/Geno background established relationship, Throwing rookies in the deepthroating end of the pool, Voyeurism, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 22:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16168499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorSockling/pseuds/DoctorSockling
Summary: "You've got to service the Captain," Cully says patiently. "Here, before we leave."Service? As in-"That's a real thing?" Jake hisses to Cully, suddenly feeling his heart going a million miles a minute like it's three hours ago and he's stepping out on the ice in his first NHL game. "I thought that was a rumor. Like, a stupid juniors locker room rumor."





	Painted Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Cully's back so I dug up this thing I wrote in 2016 to share it because my buddy yelled at me for being chicken lol

"Hey, you ready? You know what you've got to do next here, right? Someone's told you?" Cully says quietly, leaning into Jake's stall as he tosses a ball of sock tape into the bucket.

"What?"

Bones is on his other side, and he glances at them knowingly but doesn't say anything, just nods at Cully and gets up to go head for the showers and Jake doesn't get it at first, until he realizes he's giving him and Cully a little privacy.

"You've got to service the Captain," Cully says patiently. "Here, before we leave."

Service? As in-

"That's a real thing?" Jake hisses to Cully, suddenly feeling his heart going a million miles a minute like it's three hours ago and he's stepping out on the ice in his first NHL game. "I thought that was a rumor. Like, a stupid juniors locker room rumor."

There sure as fuck hadn't been anything like this at university. At least, not his school. He swallows, wondering if the… had any of the other WBS guys been up that were college guys like him that would know he wouldn't know? Why wouldn't anyone have said? But maybe they all thought everyone knew?

Cully's look is almost pitying as he unclips a garter and strips out of his sock. He sighs heavily.

"So I'll take that as a no. Well, maybe it's better that way. I imagine you'd have had a little more trouble scoring two goals on your debut if you were busy worrying about sucking Sid's dick."

He smiles and says it like it's no big deal and Jake sags back into his stall, suddenly feeling like the whole room is watching him, even though nobody's really looking his way, too busy getting out of their gear and showered off. They all know, though, better than he does about… He sneaks a look over at Sid, who's still in his underarmor and talking something over with Carl, looking a little serious and a lot intimidating.

"I can't- I don't-" Jake stutters, mouth suddenly horribly dry. 

"Hey, it's really not that hard, kid, don't freak yourself out. You don't have to be an expert, Nobody's expecting you to have any technique. Mostly just remember to keep your lips over your teeth and breathe through your nose and try and relax," Cully says, easy and with calm confidence. "And you know, lick and suck and do like the pornos do, more or less. Sid'll help, he's good like that."

And Jake would almost suspect this was a joke, a trick to see what they could get the rookie to believe, but Cullen doesn't do that, doesn't lie, and the rumors… the things he'd heard from guys who'd played a few games in The Show before getting sent back down-

"I really have to give _Sidney Crosby_ -" his voice cracks on a squeak, humiliatingly, like some pubescent virgin.

Cully frowns at him, pauses as he tosses his shin pads into the bin awaiting them. 

"Well, technically it could be any of the captains. But trust me, unless you're used to sucking cock, you're not going to want to pick G. You'll choke to death," he says with a wry laugh, then gestures with his chin and they both glance across the room at Geno, who's stripped down to his shorts and is now peeling those over his hips, revealing a dick that's obviously longer and thicker _flaccid_ than Jake's is completely hard. 

"Oh god," he mumbles.

Cully snorts. "And Kuni's not here, unfortunately, since he's the easiest to do. But then, hey, you wouldn't be here tonight if he was, so."

Jake pushes his hair back where it's trying to curl over his forehead as he feels a fresh bit of sweat start to form there.

"And I guess there's me, but…"

Jake looks at him in alarm, and realizes that yes, obviously, of course, Cully is one of the alternate captains. Even if he only wears the A when Kuni or Geno are out, it's often him.

Cully smiles benevolently and says, "If you really would rather, that's fine. Just, it'd take a lot longer to get me off. I'm old." He chuckles, rolling his eyes. "After a game, these days, it's a _lot_ more work than it used to be to have the energy for all that. And if you don't know what you're doing…"

Jake shakes his head.

"Yeah, so… look, Sid knows what he's doing. He does this all the time. Plus, you know, a blow job is a blow job, but Sid's 100% gay - which, that stays in the team, you know that, right?" Cully says, and his face turns sharp. "We're trusting you here, we're making you team, that's what this is about. That you're going to be someone we can rely on."

Jake nods frantically.

"Right," Cully says after a moment, then smiles again. "So him being gay, it's good for you because it's a little easier for him to get into it from a guy. It'll go a lot faster that way."

Jake glances back up again, but Sid's gone this time, off in the showers along with half the team, taking the place of the first few groups that'd gotten in their showers immediately and hadn't had to wait for the press to talk to them like he had, or Sid had. The other half appear to just be finishing getting dressed in their team-provided tees or their outside clothes and waiting. None of them starting to leave to go home yet or staying late to get in extra workouts just yet. They're talking amongst themselves casually or dicking around on their phones. Nobody is really being obvious about it, but they're all waiting for something here.

Waiting for him.

"Jesus, fuck," he says under his breath.

"Come on, better get out of your gear," Cully says, and they're the last two still even partially geared up, and Jake's even further behind Cully, who's almost down to his underarmor. "And lose your shirt. Trust me, you don't want to leave it for Dana and the equipment team to clean jizz off it if you can't swallow it all. Sid's going to want you as soon as he's done in the shower."

Because stupidly he's still sitting there in most of his body armor. His chest feels tight, but at least he has this directive, he knows what he needs to do next. This whole night is surreal. Getting to play his first NHL game, on a line with freakin Phil Kessel and Evgeni Malkin. Scoring on his first shot and then doing it _again_. And now he has to… he… he _gets_ to suck off Sidney Crosby in the Penguins' locker room in front of his team. _His_ team. Because that's what this hazing is about. 

He's barely had time to finish stripping out of his gear with his fumbling fingers when a group of guys comes back from the showers, the tail end of them being Sid, who glances around the room checking heads and then nods to himself as he shuts the door behind him and locks it. Geno gets the door on the other side for him, and suddenly that's it, it's just them in the room.

And people are starting to look now. Phones are going away and conversations trailing off as people start setting back into their stalls. Flower sends him a filthy smile and winks at him. Phil is carefully setting one of the small garbage bins on the ground next to Sid's stall. Geno walks past Jake, drops one of his huge hands half onto Jake's face and hair and gives him a little facewash on his way back to his stall. He's the last of the guys besides Sid, who's still standing near the middle of the room, surveying them all getting settled. He might only be wearing a towel but he still looks every inch the legend, the captain, standing there making sure his team is where they belong.

Then he goes and takes his place in the center of the arch of their stalls and drops his towel behind him, straightens it out and then takes a seat on the edge of the bench. And it's not like they haven't all seen each other naked before here and there but it's somehow _completely_ different knowing that it's about sex and not about changing clothes. He's looking at Sidney Crosby's dick, and the entire Penguins team is looking back at him - Sid's looking right at him and-

Cully sets a hand on his bare shoulder and he flinches despite himself before he looks over at Cully in desperation. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He doesn't even know where to start or what they're-

"Hey, this isn't even the most difficult thing you've done today. You'll be fine. Just remember what I told you," Cully says quietly with a wry grin as he taps his fingers to his lips and then shoves Jake's shoulder urging him up. "Now go on, go kneel for your captain."

And Jake isn't sure his legs are going to hold him, but they do. He gets up and with the whole room looking on in intent silence, he makes his way over to Sidney fucking Crosby and then lowers himself to his knees in front of his naked form.

His Captain, waiting on his throne of a central stall for Jake to prove his loyalty and commitment to his team. Because that's what this is. It's a rite of passage, now that he's completed his first NHL game with the team.

Sid smiles a little at him, his eyes dark as he watches Jake settle in front of him.

"You did fuckin' great today, Jake," Sid says and shatters the silence. The team hoots and hollers around them in agreement, catcalling and repeating the sentiment. "You did us proud. It's my honor-"

"And pleasure," Horny calls with ribald good humor, to the laughter of the room.

Sid rolls his eyes and continues, "-to commit you into the ranks of the Penguins one final time, as your captain. To make you one of us."

"With your dick!" someone else calls amidst laughter, and Jake feels his stomach turn over with nerves under the attention of the whole fucking room. He can see Rusty's knee out of the corner of his eye, and Olli on the other side; they're that close here.

"Do you accept your task?" Sid asks, trying to stifle his smile at the peanut gallery. 

Sid's not hard yet but he's not soft. His dick is more proportional than Geno's, for sure. But even still, it's intimidating up close like this, plumping up in his lap between his heavily-muscled thighs. Everything about Sid is intimidating anyway and like this… Jake swallows. He feels so young and small and in over his head.

Sid's asking like it's a real question. But they all know it's just a formality. He's already on his knees for his captain and nobody's going to _force_ him but… There's no workable way Jake could refuse even if he really wanted to, not without painting a black mark a mile wide on his career.

He doesn't want to _not_ do this, though, it's just… it's a lot.

"Yes," he says anyway, and is glad that at least his voice doesn't crack with his nerves. 

"Alright!" someone hollers, and there's more hooting and clapping as Sid grins at him and spreads his thighs more, slides his hips down right to the edge of the bench so that his half-hard dick is front and center to Jake, placed prominently out for the room to see as he gestures Jake closer.

Jake makes himself knee-walk the last step or so to where he's settled right between Sid's thighs. Sid's hand comes to settle in his hair, fingers threading through the strands as he tries to get a grip. Jake's hair is mostly too short to be any good there, but right on top in the loose waves Sid's fingers dig in and get tight enough to make his scalp tingle. 

"Open your mouth," Sid says, calm, easy confidence.

It's only barely that Jake's chin isn't quite quivering as he obeys. 

Sid slides his fingers into Jake's mouth and pulls it wider and it feels obscene - probably because it is. He can taste Sid's skin, feel the texture of the pads of his fingers as they press along his tongue and slip in the saliva starting to pool behind his teeth. Sid slips the hand free from his mouth after a moment and Jake leaves it hanging open because that's where Sid put it. 

Sid tightens the grip he has in Jake's hair and guides him down, pulls him so that his lips are touching the hot, delicate skin of his cock. He smells clean, the faint traces of shower water still clinging to the dark hair framing his dick. Jake leaves his mouth slack but feels his lips tremble against Sid's skin.

He doesn't know what he's supposed to do, but Sid doesn't seem to expect him to. Sid lifts his quickly-hardening dick into Jake's mouth and pulls them together, pushes the tip along his tongue and guides Jake's head even closer. His shoulders bump against Sid's thighs as he leans in and takes the cock being fed into his mouth.

Belatedly he remembers Cully's warning about lips and teeth as he feels the tender flesh slide over his lower teeth and he tries to use his tongue to lift Sid's cock and get his lips wrapped in over his teeth. His teeth feel too big, his lips too thin. He's got a big mouth but he has no idea how to use it for this.

"You ever done this before," Sid asks him quietly, not for the room at large.

Jake looks up at him as he shakes his head minutely, feeling humiliated and naïve because no, he hasn't, and he could've… he could've practiced somewhere along the way before he was faced with _Sidney Crosby_ , could've done the work and prepared. He'd known, or should've known the rumors weren't bullshit, he'd known a guy from youth who'd later been drafted and played a game before coming back down, the kind of guy who didn't lie so he'd _known_ but-

Sid's nostrils just flare a little though and he doesn't seem annoyed. He just seems focused as he considers something, rocks his hips a little as he watches his dick slip slowly between Jake's lips. His hand is tight in Jake's hair and he uses it to drag his head a little deeper and Jake does his best to relax like Cully had said and just take it in, his tongue twitching a little at the faint hint of bitterness on the tip of Sid's cock. 

Jake just waits as patiently as he can. Eventually Sid's mouth purses as he appears to decide something. 

"I could walk you through the basics," he says, tilting his head. "But I'd like to really challenge you instead. I want to give you a chance to step up just like you did on the ice tonight."

And Jake doesn't know what that means, exactly, but he's going to say yes. He wants this team, this place among them more than anything. 

"It'll be tough but I think you can do it. Can you take it?" Sid asks. 

He nods small but decisive.

Sid smiles slow and filthy, drags his hand over the side of Jake's face in something like affection or approval.

"Okay. If it gets too much, tap out on my thigh. If you need to throw up, the bin's right there." 

Jake follows the gesture with his eyes and sees it - right where Phil had placed it. Had he known? Had he anticipated something like this, that Jake might need to throw up? Had they _talked_ about it? 

Sid's face softens in a wry smile as he adds, "But try not to. Try and keep up with me."

He nods again, eyes darting back over to the bin in question. But the weight of Sid's cock on his tongue, now thick and full and pulsing is a much bigger demand on his attention. He focuses on breathing through his nose, on getting his mouth used to being held open for the weight invading it, but Sid doesn't give him much time to adjust.

"Stay loose. I'm going to fuck your face now," Sid says in a matter-of-fact tone and shifts his grip, slides one palm massaging up Jake's throat and then under his jaw. And with that little warning, Sid thrusts into his mouth, then again, a little further each time until he's pushing at the back of Jake's throat and he's gagging before he can even think about trying not to.

Sid doesn't stop thrusting but he backs him off a little as Jake tries to suck in a breath through his nose and tries to keep up. It's not even that rough, but it's so new to Jake he's overwhelmed. His throat spasms and his body tries to tighten up and pull away even as he tries to stay leaned in, but he doesn't tap Sid's thigh, he's determined not to. The rest of the team is making noise, talking and probably encouraging, but it's just a buzz of noise over the way his ears are pounding along with his heart. 

Soon his focus is narrowed down to this, to the drag of Sid's cock in his mouth as his spit spreads all around and eases its passage. His lips are tingling with stimulation and Sid's massive thighs are warm and tight against his shoulders. He's trying to let Sid move his head, he is, but he's too tightly wound with this. He feels angled wrong between Sid's thighs, tries to get a grip on the ground or the bench under him but there's no purchase. The edge of his fingertips bump Sid's heel and he shifts again, feels them click against the bench with nothing to grab but at least it's a solid surface.

Sid hums to himself in consideration, then backs Jake off enough so that he can stand up off the edge of the bench. Sid gets Jake up onto his knees a little higher and spreads his feet just enough to get his cock right at mouth height as Jake gasps between breaths he struggles to catch. It's a momentary reprieve but Sidney's already dragging the head of his cock over Jake's lips and so he opens his mouth again and takes what he's being given. 

This time the angle is both better and worse as he pushes into Jake's mouth. It's easier on him for letting him in, but it makes Jake's throat open more without him trying, without his control, and nice and steady, cock rock hard now, Sid fucks right to the back of his throat with it.

Jake makes a humiliating sound, his body's automatic cry of protest gargling into a wet mess. Sid pulls back but just cradles his broad palm under Jake's jaw and squeezes at his throat as he does it again, pushes harder and deeper and keeps going. Jake's body is still trying to fight it, trying to pull his tongue back and push Sid out and his vision is blurring with reflexive tears. He makes that same awful gargling sound and his body tenses against it, strains as he tries not to puke, tries to find his center again.

"Relax your jaw. Keep your tongue flat," Sid orders, pausing only briefly before the hand under Jake's jaw is tightening and forcing it open as he pulls Jake in harder.

And Jake's hands are fists on his thighs and his face feels so hot and wet as he strains to obey. It feels wrong to stretch out his tongue but he does it anyway, and spit is oozing down his chin and his throat, all over the place. He's seen porn before, of course he has, but it's never been like this - or maybe it has, maybe every girl sucking some guy off for a camera is struggling not to gag and throw up and it's not nearly as easy as it looks. 

Steadily but firmly, with so much more strength at his command than Jake, Sid forces his cock in almost all the way as he chokes and gurgles spit all over the place. There's nothing in his stomach but water and gatorade to throw up anyway, so it doesn't do more than churn, but any other time he'd be bending over and puking he thinks, and he desperately doesn't want to do that in front of the team.

"Good," Sid murmurs.

It's so hard not to give in to instinct and try and writhe away but he hangs on, gets his tongue stretched flat and his jaw to stop locking and Sid uses the hand on the back of his head to pull him all the way down. Abruptly Jake's nose is buried in dark hair. He can feel Sid's cock in the back of his throat, past where anything should ever be, past where he's gagging on it. The urge to pull away and fight is intense but he makes himself stay.

Sid's grip is powerful and perfectly unyielding. Fresh tears are spilling down his cheeks and he can't breathe, but somewhere between one failed attempt to breathe and the next it doesn't seem quite so overwhelming and foreign. It's hard work but really it's no worse than a hard skate leaving him breathless and desperate and aching. He's spent most of his life finding ways to control his body and demand more than is comfortable and this… this is no different.

Sid finally pulls him back, lets him gasp for air, and he belatedly hears the noise the others are making in the background over the rushing of blood in his ears. They're loudly cheering him on, the both of them, all in an unintelligible mess of voices. He thinks maybe they've gotten up, that they're crowding closer to watch.

It finally sinks in just how much this is not just a rookie sucking off his Captain. It's about proving how far he'll go for him, for the team. Even though he's gagging as Sid fucks back into his throat, he's determined to take it, to take the gift of the challenge Sid's offering him with this.

His nose is clogging up with the tears. He can't breathe, feels lightheadedness coming in more each time the gaps between Sid giving him room to breathe stretch longer. But he's not going to tap out.

It pays off. There's no telling how long it goes on but at some point Jake realizes he's got his throat completely open and Sid is straight up fucking his face. Whereas in the beginning he thought he'd never be able to take it all, now he can feel Sid all the way in his throat. His tongue is stretched out past his lips and he can feel Sid's balls are slapping against his chin. Sid's making sounds, low and guttural and punched out of him, his thrusts getting jerkier and rougher and Jake just does his best to hold on, to let Sid fuck his throat to his desire.

On a short grunt, Sid shanks on a thrust and instead plunges in all the way. He holds him deep, his hands locked around the base of Jake's skull, and he stays there, his dick jerking in Jake's throat as he groans out loud.

Jake is somehow past gagging, or is perpetually gagging, he's not sure anymore, but he blinks through the grey edging into his vision until Sid finally pulls back, come dragging in bitter trails along Jake's tongue that leave thick strands of saliva dripping out of his mouth as he coughs for breath.

His head is pounding with it, a dull ache like a workout while dehydrated, and he leans on his hands, sits back on his heels and struggles to breathe. He drags one of his wrists over his mouth, smears away some of the excess saliva clinging to his skin and tries to get his tongue to fit back in his jaw. He coughs, clears his throat a few times and he's not sure it helps but his heart eases from a gallop to something more normal and he doesn't feel like he's gasping much thereafter.

Slowly his hearing returns to something more than white noise, the congratulatory whoops and murmurs of the guys in the room becoming intelligible again. There's a few shoulder and back thumps that come his way, and when he finally looks up, Sid's got his towel back around his waist and is smiling down at him. He looks… the same. Like he always has, which feels weird now.

"Nice fuckin' job, Jake," he says, and bends to get an arm under Jake's armpit and haul him up to his feet. 

There's someone doing the same on his other side, which he definitely needs the help of because his legs feel like jelly, and when he looks over, Geno's there at his shoulder, smirking. 

"Did good, liney," he says, patting his head. "Sid such mean captain, always hog best rookies."

"Hey!" Sid squawks, reaching across Jake to punch Geno's chest. "I do _not_."

"Kinda do," someone else - Shearsy maybe? - chirps from behind them, which makes Geno laugh, loud and delighted as Sid sputters while the two of them guide Jake away along with them.

They take him out through the freshly unlocked door and towards the showers, and he's mortified because Sully and Tochett are standing not far up the hall, chatting with Gonch, and out of the corner of his eye Jake sees Sid lift his chin at them in a nod and sees the nod Sully sends back. They none of them look surprised by his wrecked state. Because of course they know too. Everyone must know.

The showers are thankfully empty, and Jake knows his feet are walking, that they're not dragging him or anything but they still feel a million miles away. He wobbles a little when Sid lets him go to go turn on the shower, leans against Geno more heavily than he means to. Fortunately Geno's plenty capable there.

"So mean, Sid," Geno croons, stabilizing Jake against his chest, like he's half wrapping him up into a hug. "Not supposed to break rookies."

"What?" Sid says, snapping his head around and looking at Jake shrewdly.

Jake does his best to straighten up, to not look broken or whatever. He's _not_. He can take it. He did take it. He took all of it.

"No. Come on, G," Sid grumbles as he turns his attention back to the shower, getting the water to the right temperature on his palm. "He's fine. He's great. And it's not like we're the fuckin' western conference."

"True," Geno agrees easily.

"Why, what do they do?" Jake asks before he thinks about how naïve it sounds. Or how raspy his voice is and the fact that it's a little sore now.

Sid snorts as he tests the water again. 

"Depends on the team for _exactly_ what they do for their initiation - they're all fucking insane if you ask me though. Downright irresponsible in some cases. I mean, tradition and team cohesion is one thing but… Half the time the rooks in Anaheim and Chicago can barely make it to morning skate and they always play like shit if they've got another game right away."

"In Western conferences they like ass-fuck best," Geno says easily, explaining the source of Sid's distracted rant. "Some with spanking, but mostly fuck. Most have all leadership do, some teams whole team takes turns, you know. Is stupid, if rookie not used to getting fucked. Make sore."

Which is a fucking understatement if Jake's ever heard one. Jesus.

"Not all of them. Fuckin' Gabe - likes to take 'em to his bed, all romantic one on one, the weirdo," Sid says with a laugh as he comes back over and reaches for Jake's compression shorts he's still wearing, peeling them down over Jake's legs and nudging his thighs till he steps out of them.

"Swede," Geno says, like that explains it, which it must because Sid snickers.

Jake tries for a laugh but it comes out more like just a breath. It's weird as fuck to be standing there naked with the two-headed-monster having gossipy locker-room talk about how teams break in their rookies.

"But he think you crazy for this part I bet," Geno counters.

And Jake blinks, looks back at him and Sid because… he'd thought they were done. That they'd 'hit the showers' and there wasn't anything more he had to do for this.

Sid makes a face and says, "Well, yeah. I mean. I probably would too if I were him."

"What… uh…" His voice cracks. Quite possibly trembles. He's not sure what more he can take.

Sid looks nonplussed, and then smiles reassuringly at Jake. "Oh, no, don't worry, it's not that bad. No, it's just. Last thing is to just mark you as ours."

"Like dog," Geno interjects with a wide grin that earns him an indignant glare from Sid. "Sid like, pee on favorite new rookie. Mark territory."

But Sid doesn't argue, and Jake laughs a little hysterically because of course. Why the fuck not. 

It also explains the showers.

"So just…"

"I know it's kinda weird but a golden shower doesn't hurt anyone and it's Pens tradition, one way older than me - shut up Geno, I did _not_ start it you know that. So yeah, if you want to kneel down. Whatever's comfortable. And just, if you want to close your eyes and your mouth, that's probably best."

Jake's been trying to swallow back a hysterical laugh at the idea of Lemieux pissing on Sid - Geno's still kinda holding him up but he lets him down a little and Jake lets his legs fold under him till he's sitting on his feet, looking up again at Sid and Geno towering over him, smiling at him and everything is so fucking surreal he can't even think.

Geno loses his towel and then reaches out and snags Sid's off his hips, tosses the both of them over into the corner as Sid steps closer so he's almost straddling Jake's shoulder. He runs his fingers through Jake's hair and angles his hips in so that his dick is right there too.

"So, uh. Welcome to the team, kid," Sid says, and then a hot stream of liquid splatters against Jake's hair, running down over his temple and his ear and he squeezes his eyes shut, tries not to flinch away from it.

He does flinch anyway when Geno suddenly starts pissing on him from the other side, and he ends up getting some full in the face because he has pulled back into the way. Geno's huge hand lands on his head and nudges him back forward again as he sputters, the faintly sour smell in his nose and on his lips as he fights the urge to blink his eyes open.

He shifts, tries to angle his head back a bit so it doesn't run more over his face, Sid shifting with him so that the stream runs down over his neck to his collar bones and his belly. Geno's higher up but his frickin' horse dick is long enough it presses against the crown of his head, right in the curls he leaves long up top and saturates his hair, just soaks him with the body-hot urine.

He's not sure why it's this that his dick takes an interest in, after everything, unexpectedly twitching and beginning to fill under the warm wet trickle of piss dribbling down his belly and over his cock. But then, he's entirely in uncharted territory here. It's all he can do to not go from a little perky to all the way hard, which he desperately does not want to do, not in front of Sid and Geno of all people. He runs through passing drills in his head to keep his thoughts off the strong hands on him and the intimacy and heat of it all. Fortunately for his sanity this part takes much less time than the other thing.

He can hear Sid sighing ever so softly in satisfaction, his fingers massaging gently along Jake's head as the stream of his piss starts to dwindle, till it's just a dribble and he's wiping the head of his dick along Jake's cheekbone as he steps back.

Geno takes longer, but not by too much, and he pats Jake's head affectionately before he shakes his cock carelessly, sending droplets flying to spatter on Jake's face.

"You Penguin forever now, is rule," Geno says with a laugh. "Painted gold."

Sid echoes the laugh in light tones, then adds semi-solemnly, "Yep. No matter where life takes you, you'll always be one of us." 

Jake doesn't know what to say - he doesn't really want to open his mouth so he just nods and hopes it's enough. It must be, because then Sid and Geno are lifting Jake back up to his feet again, guiding him over to where the shower water is still spraying into the room.

It's a perfectly decent temperature and Jake ducks his head under the water, lets the clean pure water wash away the piss and sweat and spit and tears that have accumulated on his head and face. It's a small thing but he takes pride in the fact that he's able to muster up enough coordination to stay up on his own feet with minimal fumbling. He rinses his face quickly, takes a moment to just catch his breath in the little pocket of air under the spray. His hands only shake a little. Then he makes himself brush the water off his face and turn back to his Captains and stand as tall as he can, like he believes he belongs here now.

"Alright?"

He nods, and Geno tosses him a fresh towel from the shelf, giving him a vaguely approving nod as he meanders towards one of the showers himself. 

"Okay then, off you go. And hey, good work, kid," Sid says, smacking him lightly on the ass as he starts off walking - the normal locker-room sort of swat. Definitely not the same way as how he turns around and smacks Geno's ass a moment later after Geno mutters something Jake doesn't hear over the rush of the shower, since his hand hits hard enough to make an audible slap but also lingers as Geno chuckles louder. 

Jake doesn't keep looking, just pushes the door open and makes his way out of the steam-filled room on noodly but strong-enough legs. He's pretty sure he's already had more than enough today, he can figure out the rest some other time.

The locker room is mostly empty as he enters again. Support and equipment people are working on their gear and cleaning up and stuff but even that's mostly done already. Cully's still sitting in his stall reading a book that he puts away with a smile when he sees him, though, and Jake's horribly embarrassed but he's still kinda relieved that he waited. 

"Come on," Cully says, getting up and smiling at him. "Let me buy you a steak and you can tell me all about how you scored two goals in your first game as a Penguin."

It's almost startling - he'd almost forgotten, somehow, that he just played his first NHL game and did well. That there's so much to remember about tonight for so many reasons, and seeing the pucks sitting on the shelf in his stall with carefully-labeled tape has him grinning, almost giddy with it.

"Yeah," he says, pulling his suit down with alacrity. "Yeah that sounds great."


End file.
